


Voicing an Opinion

by MSpataro210



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Sings, Funny, M/M, Voice Actors Au, inspired by a tumblr post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a voice actor who meets the guest singer for a song on the show 'Watch Yourself' where he voices the main character.  Little does Castiel know he may have to watch himself while near the guy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voicing an Opinion

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it! I needed to write something before finals started and this seemed easy enough and interesting enough! Just, please forgive me if I don't use the right terminology for places and equipment.

            “… How are we supposed to make it back to our time if you sold the only way back for some second-hand ganja-“

            “Cut!”

            A man moves away from the microphone, scrubbing a hand over his face and looking through the window where three people sit behind a huge machine.  One is his co-star and best friend, Charlie Bradbury, who’s looking over her script, pen in hand and lip between her teeth. Next to her is the man who operates the sound machine, blonde with a permanent smirk on his face. He rarely leaves the sound room, which is sad because it’s more like a cage than a room.  He doesn’t know the man’s name, but he has heard he’s hell to work with and the actual devil.  And finally, the man who stopped the recording, the show’s head writer: Randy Metatron.

            “What is it?” the man asks into his microphone.

            “I’m not buying the frustration,” Metatron says, “you’re not selling it, darling.”

            “Are you sure?” he asks again, “I’m sure it’s improved since the last fifty times you made me do it over…” He sends a look over at the writer, blue eye twitching under stress and annoyance.  All Metatron does is shrug, moving his finger in the universal sign for ‘do it again’.

            He puts a hand on the mic, mouth open ready to curse out the small, gnome-like man, when Charlie finally looks up with wide eyes.

            “Metatron!” she grabs the writer’s attention, “can’t we take a break?  I mean, I have some questions about your script… I think there might be a continuity error in it-“

            “Let me see that!” he rips the script from her hand, eyes narrowing in on the area she highlighted in red ink. His own eyes widen, then squints, before he presses a button on the sound table.

            “Take lunch, Castiel,” he says, “I have to speak to _someone_ about basic plotlines…” He stalks out with murder in his eyes, followed by Charlie shooting him a look telling her he owes him.

            Castiel sighs, glad his friend saved him from letting lose the recent anger that has been building since Metatron’s appointment as head writer.

            Ever since Chuck left, the show has not been the same.  What had started out as a fun-ducational history series for adults on Comedy Central has turned into cheap laughs and the occasional animated nipple.

            Castiel thought he had snagged one of the greatest jobs a voice actor could ever dream of. He was fresh out of working on a small web-series for a YouTube channel when a man named Gabriel who seemed to represent Chuck approached him.  Apparently the man had heard him on the show and thought he’d be perfect for this new show his client was putting together.

            As Gabe put it: “Your voice is just the amount of gravel and freshly fucked we’re looking for!”

            And ever since then he’s had a stable job voicing the main character in “Watch Yourselves”: Doctor Jimmy Novak, a brilliant young scientist who’s invented time travel, even though his use of it is as crude as the character.

            Every episode seems to find him going through time to either right a wrong, stop his nemesis Jessica Peabody (played by the hilarious Rowena Crowley-the director’s mother), or (his favorite) just to bang a famous historical figure.

            He doesn’t know which one of those he enjoyed more: trying to seduce Queen Elizabeth I or proving his might in the coliseum before Caligula could let him enter his chambers.

            But that was all five seasons ago.  Now, on their sixth, it seems that Metatron is trying to play into the basest of human emotions.

            Especially with their latest script, which has Jimmy and his sidekick Celeste (Charlie’s character) journeying to Upstate New York of 1969 to visit Woodstock and… get high? Castiel had to read the script five times to make sure he didn’t miss the plot, and he didn’t… because it wasn’t there! It was the most senseless filler episode Castiel had ever read!  It even included a break for a musical number.

            In the days of Chuck, no scene was written unless it was important for the story or the character. And not once was there ever any singing! Especially the non-sensical lyrics Castiel had to read about flowers and rainbows and the very obvious metaphors for an acid trip.

            Castiel gathers up his bag, hoping to drown his irritation under a bottle of Jim Bean, when he hears the door creaking open.

            He turns, tan trench coat halfway on, catching sight of the intruder and-oh my.

            Castiel’s eyes zero in on the forest green of the other man’s face, the stranger’s eyes a perfect complement to Castiel’s own sea-filled ones.  Surrounding these eyes are tiny little freckles, peppering his skin like bullet holes.  When he finally makes it down to the man’s plump lips and bright smile, he can already tell getting out of this room is going to be _harder_ than he thought.

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

            “Yes, well, there shouldn’t,” Castiel informs him, grip tightening on his bag’s strap when he heard the smooth twang of the other man’s voice, “it’s just the writer kept me in here until my friend distracted him long enough for me to take a break.”

            “So you’re not done?” the other man’s eyebrows quirk down.

            “No, I’m done,” Castiel moves closer to the door, “I’m getting out of here before he comes back-if I have to sit here and do the same line another fifty times I’m going to take the pen he wrote the script with and shove it up his asshole.”

            “I’d suggest using the ink as a lube, but sounds like you wouldn’t mind if it was rough.”

            Castiel stops and turns to face the man again, whose cheeks are bright red.  His smile seems to give an air of confidence, but Castiel can see in his eyes he didn’t intend for that thought to escape. Castiel steps away from his freedom and matches his smirk.

            “Very true,” he says, “I’m Castiel Collins.”

            “Dean Winchester,” he holds his hand for Castiel’s to shake.  Castiel does, and can’t help but relish in the warmth Dean seems to naturally give off.

            “What are you in here for?” Castiel tilts his head, “I thought ‘Watch Yourself’ had the room booked until five?”

            “Oh, it does,” Dean answers, “I’m here to record the song for it-don’t know why though. These lyrics are better being sung by a shredder, but a paycheck is a paycheck.”

            Castiel laughs, loud and long, at Dean’s joke: completely agreeing with every word.

            “That’s good,” Castiel tells him, eyes drifting towards the window.  He sees the sound booth guy pointing towards his watch, then the machine, and realizes he’s been biding his time.

            “I’m sorry,” Castiel says, “but I think I need to let you work.”

            “What?” Dean turns, catching the glimpse of the man as well, “Oh, yeah… sorry.”

            “It’s okay, I understand,” Castiel smiles, “try not to gag on the second verse.  It’s nothing but garbage.”

            “I’ll try,” Dean smiles back, removing the guitar case over his shoulder to place on the ground. Castiel opens the door, but takes one look back to take Dean in fully: grey beanie, a soft sweater that seems to hang to his knees, some sweatpants, and sandals.  It’s not surprising that he’s wearing something so comfortable. When your job is to convey a character’s emotion with voice alone, your appearance tends to fluctuate. Castiel’s always been about looking his best, so even though no one sees him on screen he always takes time to make sure he looks his best in the morning.  Charlie varies from normal clothing to fandom gear to full on costume depending on the time period.  He remembers two weeks where Charlie was in armor because they had a two part-er in King Arthur’s court.

            Castiel has even heard stories of some voice actors who can only record in the nude. It’s part of the reason why Crowley had to fire the lead voice actor on his last show once he went to a health spa in Mesa and came back with cornrows, hemp necklaces, and nothing else.

            Unfortunate, too, as that was the last people heard of Benny Lafitte before he moved to Louisiana and dropped off the face of the earth.

            Castiel closes the door and starts to move down the hallway, but then a thought pops into his mind. He stops, looks back, and thinks.

            ‘ _I mean, I’m gonna have to hear that song in character anyway,_ ’ Castiel reasons, ‘ _might as well try get in the moment and use it when the scene comes up._ ’

            Castiel turns on his heel, walking back towards the sound room.  He enters, this time into the room housing the machine and the unnamed man who works it.  The man shoots him a look, but says nothing.

            Castiel looks through the mirror at Dean, who seems to have not noticed him.  His eyes are closed as he strums his fingers across the guitar, the microphone not picking up the true sound of the acoustic instrument. But Castiel came in on the end of the chorus, and his voice is something the mike can pick up loud and clear.

            He’s surprised, to say the least.  Castiel expected the man to have a good voice; it was why he was hired, but not _this_ good.  Dean seems to be putting his all into a song that was written on four cans of red bull and ten cups of ramen, making it sound like the people who wrote it actually cared.  Castiel can fully imagine Dean standing in front o thousands on a hot summer day, with a tie dye shirt on as he sang about peace and freedom.

            In fact, he’s so good, Castiel himself feels like he should have a flower in his hair or something. This has probably been the quickest Castiel has ever slipped into a scene, needing at least a minute or two to picture the time period his character was in.  But with Dean… everything seemed to fall into place.

            ‘ _Maybe I need to rethink my opinion on songs…_ ’

            “You’re drooling.”

            Castiel stuns, having not realized Charlie had quickly returned.  She shoots him a knowing look while he not so subtly wipes at the corner of his mouth.

            “He’s very talented,” Castiel says, looking up to notice Dean is smiling-not at the sound booth guy, but at him.  Castiel, warm all over, smiles back.

            “He’s also cute,” Charlie says, “not my type, obviously, but someone else’s…”

            “Charlie,” Castiel clucks, “what are you suggesting?”

            “Maybe see if Mr. Green Eyes wouldn’t mind having you speak into _his_ microphone?”

            “Charlie!” Castiel whispers, face redder than before, “I can’t just ask him that!  I just met him!”

            “Hey, confidence is very sexy on a man,” she chides, “I read it in one of those fru-fru magazines, like GQ or Men’s Health.”

            “But I can’t just ask him that,” Castiel explains, “I mean, firstly, just looking at him it’s probably very large-sweat pants can’t hide much-but he just met me! And secondly, I at least want to take him out for a few dinners before he knows how weird I am.”

            “I mean I can’t do dinner, but I’m free for lunch.”

            Castiel and Charlie turn to face the window, as Dean looks through it at the pair.  His face is directly in front of the microphone but Castiel can see the gleam in his green eyes, burning with something Castiel likes.

            The man at the soundboard has his finger pressed down and a smirk on his face.

            Castiel clears his throat before moving forward.

            “Sure,” he speaks into the other mike on his end, “lunch sounds nice.  I know this great place nearby.”

            “Great,” Dean answers, “let me just pack up-I am done, right?” He receives a nod from the quiet man, “and I’ll be out in a few.”

            Castiel moves back towards Charlie, as they exit the room to wait.

            “Looks like I have to find someone to spend lunch with now,” she bemoans, looking into her elbow as she cries alligator tears.

            Castiel rolls his eyes, but a small figure darting towards them has him smiling.

            “I wouldn’t say that,” he pokes her, “I’m sure Metatron will be great company for lunch.”

            “What?” she looks up, only to realize it’s too late to save herself.  Castiel pats her on the back before moving towards the door of the recording booth.  Luckily, Dean opens the door in time for Castiel to grab his hand as they make the mad dash away from Metatron, deciding an open veranda was a much better setting for their first date, than in the writer’s room cramped between people who are dead in the eyes and dumb in their writing.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the tumblr user princesscas for their addition of an AU to a set of pictures tumblr user cottoncas posted of Misha and Jensen in a recording studio!


End file.
